


Oh Hunter, My Hunter

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, Other, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 19:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16165889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This isn’t about you, and you don’t want it to be.  So you pay extra attention to the new marks, memorizing them and kissing them like your lips could heal every wound. @xv-fantasies on Tumblr





	Oh Hunter, My Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I want Dave to come home to me after a long...](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/421373) by dirtyffxvconfessions. 



> Inspired by a post by @dirtyffxvconfessions on Tumblr.
> 
> http://dirtyffxvconfession.tumblr.com/post/178639963907

You are startled awake by the front door.  You are about to reach for the weapon kept beside the bed when you recognize the heavy, dragging footsteps that could only be those of your lover.  You throw the blanket off and shiver when your bare feet touch the cold wooden floor.  You go to the front room and find Dave leaning against the wall, his face buried in his hands.  You approach him carefully so as not to startle the clearly distraught hunter. 

“Tough week?” you ask gently.  

He looks up and your heart breaks when you see tears streaming down his face, glinting on the soft lamp light.  

“I lost so many,” he says with a broken voice.  “So many good, brave hunters.  There’s just to damn many deamons.  It’s so damn dark...”

You wrap your arms around him and feel his strong body melt into you.  He buries his face in the crock of your neck and sobs.  You hug him tight but say nothing.  No words can heal a heart broken by so much death and loss.  SO you just hold him there, letting him release all his bottled-up grief.  You know you are the only one he shows this side of himself to, you’re the only one he trusts to lay his heart bare in front of, and you feel honored to have the unyielding trust of a man such as Dave.

His sobs soon turn quiet, but the tears don’t stop.  His hands begin to wander across your body, making their way over your ass and under your loose sleep shirt.  He tentatively kisses up your neck and jawline before softly meeting your lips.

You know what he needs.

“Come to bed, Love,” you whisper against his lips.  He nods slowly.  He takes your hand and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.  You switch on the lamp beside the bed, casting the room in a soft glow.  You gently push the vest from his slumped shoulders, and he raises his arms to let you pull his shirt over his head.  You move to his belt next and once the clasp is undone, he pulls his pants and boxers down and steps out of them easily, having already removed his boots at the door.  

You lay down first, still clothed, and hold the blanket aside for him to lay down beside you.  Once he’s comfortable, he closes his eyes, but it does nothing to stop the steady stream of silent tears still flowing from his eyes.  You, and you alone, know how to make those tears stop; how to make him forget, if only temporarily, the death and ruin outside your bedroom walls.  

You kiss his neck, lips ghosting over the chain that holds his hunters tags, tags that he never removes.  He doesn’t feel safe without them.  You run your hands over his chest, tracing scars new and old with your fingertips.  His breath hitches when one hand trails its way down his side, over his hip, and finds his cock.  he’s flaccid yet, so you gently rest your hand on his thigh.  

You kiss down his neck and across his chest.  You know every scar, at least the ones he had before he left.  When your lips find new ones you feel anger well up deep in your gut, but you push it back down.  This isn’t about you, and you don’t want it to be.  So you pay extra attention to the new marks, memorizing them and kissing them like your lips could heal every wound.  They can’t heal the pain in his body, but they can heal the pain in his heart, at least for one night.

Eventually Dave’s breathing grows heavy and is laced with soft moans.  You look up and see the tears are no longer falling.  His cock twitches against your arm; he’s at half mast now, so you you gently take hold of him.  Your grip is loose and your movements are slow, but he quickly becomes fully hard under your careful ministrations.

You shift yourself over so that you are laying halfway on top of him, letting him wrap his muscular arms around you and hold you tightly against him.  His breaths are coming quicker now and his hips are making small jerking motions upward.  Knowing he’s close, you tighten your grip slightly and increase your speed, all the while continuing to lavish kisses on his neck and shoulders. 

With a quiet grunt, he says your name and you feel his body go rigid as he cums, spilling into your hand and across his stomach.  You continue to slowly and gently stroke him through his orgasm as a weeks worth of tension trains from his exhausted body and he relaxes beneath you.  

You roll over and grab a discarded tshirt off the floor to clean you both off with, mindful of the hypersensitivity of his softened cock.  You toss the garment aside and pull the blanket up to cover you both.  You roll over, bringing him with you so that he is curled into your side with his head resting on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“I’m just glad you’re home safe,” you say and kiss his forehead.  “Rest, Love.”

His eyes flutter closed and you know he’ll be asleep soon.  But you lay there looking down at the rare look of tranquility on Dave’s face.  You have no intentions of sleeping until you know that your beloved hunter is sleeping soundly and (hopefully) dreaming peacefully.   


End file.
